Revelation
by Zion Angel
Summary: Pepper can’t stand her new boss sometimes. Until, by accident, she sees a side of him she never suspected. -- Pre-movie


Revelation

By ZionAngel

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She wonders, at least once a day, why she works for him. She knows why she accepted the job, some two months ago - it was a shock to even be offered, especially for something as simple as cathing his mistake, and the prospect of moving up from her dead-end, pencil-pusher job with the accounting department was nothing short of heavenly, not to mention the prestige of working directly under Tony Stark... And the money. She's still a little shocked at the size of her paychecks. She suspects that's the only reason she keeps coming in morning after morning, all too often with some strange woman's dry-cleaning.

But then come the moments, all too often, when she can't stand he selfish bastard. She hates his arrogance, his self-centeredness, his obsession with any woman in high heels (especially when that woman is her), his heartless disregard for the feelings and needs of others... The list is a mile long, and the more she thinks about all of the man's negative and downright despicable qualities, the harder it becomes to concentrate on her actual work. So she tries not to dwell on it too much.

But then there are times, like this Sunday morning, when she can't help but dwell, from the time he gets the call that he didn't sign the Sherman Contract last week, the only one on the board that didn't, and that all hell will rain down on Stark Industries if it isn't signed by tomorrow morning. She dwells as she drags herself out of bed, all the way to the office to pick up the contract, and all the way to his ridiculous mansion. She hopes he'll be awake already, and cooperative, because he has a reputation of letting go of assistants easily, and although she's already beat the record by at least a month, somehow throwing water in his face to wake him up seems like a bad idea.

So she's pleasantly surprised when Jarvis tells her that Mr. Stark is indeed awake, up in the attic. She doesn't think to wonder why he's up there - she can't ever remember him going up there in the whole time she's worked for him - and just goes up. She wants to get this over with and salvage as much of her Sunday as possible.

She finds the door already open when she reaches the top of the stairs. She finally becomes mildly curious when she enters and hears absolute silence. If she knows anything about Tony Stark, it's that he loathes silence. He only barely tolerates it for the sake of sleep. So the fact that she hears no blasting music, no television, nothing, is strange, to say the very least.

She tip-toes in, muffling the sound of her heels. She can't quite say what she was expecting to find inside, but it certainly was not this.

She finds him on the floor, nestled in the middle of countless boxes and finely-crafted wooden trunks. She can read some of the labels on the boxes - "mom's books," "dad's awards," "paintings," "photos." Many of the boxes and trunks closest to Mr. Stark are open, and he is surrounded by photo albums, bits of fabric that might be old clothes, and a dozen other little items. As for Mr. Stark himself, he's sitting cross-legged on the floor, an old photo album in his lap, and the look on her face... That's probably the most shocking thing of all, because she's never seen such a look on his face before - now that she sees it, she realizes that she didn't think he was even capable of showing such emotions.

He looks... nostalgic. Sad. Lonely, even. Though as she watches him, she sees a faint smile on his face, that widens momentarily every time he turns the page and sees some new photo. She realizes that he can only be looking at pictures of his parents; from the mix of pain and happiness on his face, she suspects it's not something he does all that often.

She can't bring herself to announce her presence yet - she's too stunned by what she sees to even move. She had never even fathomed this side of Tony Stark before, this… _humanity_ in him, this normal, human part of him that can feel actual pain and longing, happiness, love of something or someone other than himself.

He catches sight of her then, and in an instant the vulnerability and emotion is gone, replaced with some vaguely suspicious look, some wall to keep her out. She finds the loss surprisingly tragic.

"What are you doing here, Potts?"

She glances down at the folder in her hands and moves toward him, trying to act casual. "I need you to sign this contract. I need to get it back to the board as soon as possible."

She's almost hesitant when she holds out the folder and pen. He takes it, and glances through it a moment before signing. She can't help but look around as he does. The trunk on her right has an old but still vibrant and brightly-colored quilt. Around the floor are a few small figurines of angels, animals, sitting on top of pieces of bubble wrap or paper, as if they've just been unwrapped. Another trunk on her left, an antique of dark wood with gold leaves embossed along the edges, is filled with a pile of ivory lace, and she realizes suddenly that it's a wedding dress - his mother's wedding dress. Lying on top is a large frame with several pressed flowers, and tucked into the side of the trunk is another album, and the spine reads "Howard and Maria - June 12, 1970". And as he hands back the signed contract, she sees the album on his lap, open to a full-page picture of him as a teenager, wearing a cap and gown, with his parents on either side of him nearly suffocating him in a hug. All three are smiling brilliantly. His smile is different in that photo, unlike any she's ever seen him wear. It's absolutely and genuinely happy, and loving.

"That'll be all, Ms. Potts," he says, with his usual dismissiveness.

She backs away almost reluctantly, strangely drawn to this newly revealed side of him, eager to learn more about it. But she does turn and head back toward the door, not sure what else there is to do. She glances back just once, before she leaves, and sees just a glimmer of that look again before she leaves.

Dear God, Tony Stark actually has a heart, buried somewhere deep down. Who would have ever guessed?


End file.
